Her sister's incoherent weeping.
In the end, it was easy. When your life hung by a thread, you could do anything.
Alain told her what to do, and she did it. And don't disconnect, he said. / want to hear every word.
Savannah went back into the O'Connell apartment. It was crowding up; the first early guests had arrived. A quick look showed her that Mary Elizabeth had obeyed her daughters and hadn't yet appeared.
Savannah offered a silent prayer of thanks. Mary Elizabeth's absence was the only kindness fate would show tonight.
There was a microphone at the front of the room. For the singer, for those who wanted to offer toasts...
For what Savannah had to do next.
She went straight to it. "Everyone?" she said, and when her voice quavered, she cleared her throat and said it again. ' 'Everyone?''
Faces turned toward her. People smiled. Surely, she was going to be the first to offer good wishes. Sean looked surprised but happy as he came through the crowd toward her.
"My wife," he said, slipping his arm around her waist. "I was going to introduce her to you all, but I guess she couldn't wait."
People laughed. Savannah swayed. "Savannah?" Sean murmured.
She stepped away from him. "My name," she said in a clear voice, "is Savannah McRae."
"It's Savannah O'Connell," Sean said, with a little smile that told her he didn't know what was happening but he'd play along.
"It's Savannah O'Connell," she said into the suddenly hushed room, "only because—because Sean O'Connell thinks that the best way to keep a promise is to lie to the people he supposedly loves."
A murmur swept the room. Jaws fell. Eyes widened. "Savannah," Sean said urgently, "don't." He reached for her but she slapped his hand away.
"A year ago, Sean O'Connell cheated at cards and walked off with a million dollars that wasn't his."
The murmur grew louder. She had to raise her voice to continue.
"I know this because—because my lover is the man he cheated. And now—and now, he's cheated again. Sean hired me to play the part of his fiancee. Of his wife. He paid me five hundred thousand dollars to—to make his mother, to make all of you think that—that he's a good and dutiful son. He isn't. He's a liar. A cheat. He's a—a—"
Sean went crazy. He caught Savannah around the waist, threw her over his shoulder and carried her from the room. It was like the night he'd carried her from the Lorelei.
He'd been angry at her then.
Now, he wanted to kill her.
It took all his self-control to get her out the door and drop her on her feet next to an elevator.
"Sean," she whispered, but he didn't even look at her.
"One question," he growled. "Just tell me one thing, sugar..."
Was it all a lie? That was what he wanted to ask her, but what for? He already knew the answer.
"Get the hell out of my sight," he said, "before I put my hands around your throat."
His brothers were waiting at the door. Without a word, they flanked him and headed for the fire stairs. Nobody spoke through the long descent. Nobody spoke as they headed for a corridor behind the reception desk and the office that had been Keir's when he ran the hotel.
Cullen shut the door. Keir opened a cupboard, dug around inside and took out a bottle of whiskey and some glasses. He poured; the brothers picked up the glasses and tossed down the whiskey. Sean held his glass out again and Keir refilled it.
"Well?" he finally said. "Aren't you going to tell me what a stupid son of a bitch I am?"
"You're a stupid son of a bitch," Cullen said, but without any heat.
"Yeah," Sean said roughly, and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat.
"Was she the same one?" Keir said. "The hooker you told us about?''
"Watch your mou..." Sean's shoulders drooped. He'd told enough lies, especially to himself. "Yeah. The same one."
"And you hired her for tonight?"
"Yes. At first."
His brothers looked at each other. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I hired her." Sean hesitated. "Then I fell in love with her. And married her. And if either of you tells me again that I'm a stupid son of a bitch—" His voice broke. He saw his brothers' horrified looks and he turned away. "Listen, I'm going to go for a walk, okay? No, you guys stay here. I want to be alone for a while."
"Sean—"
"Kid—"
The door swung open. Their stepfather looked from one brother to the other, then set his gaze on Sean.
"I got a trace on that phone call your, uh, Savannah got just before she—I got a trace."
"Pays to have an ex-cop in the family," Cullen said with a tight smile.
"It came from—"
"A yacht off an island in the Bahamas." Sean nodded. "Thanks, Dan, but I could have saved you the trouble."
"It came from the Shalimar Hotel."
Sean stared at the older man. ' 'The Shalimar two blocks from here?"
"That's right. So I called the head of security over there, asked some questions;..." Dan pulled a notepad from his pocket. "Call was placed from a suite. Number 937. Occupants are one Alain Beaumont and a young girl." He glanced at the pad again. "AMelisande McRae."
It took a second to register. "Missy?" Sean said, staring at Dan.
"Also...maybe you don't want to hear this, son, but the front desk called me, said there was a young woman sobbing her heart out as she ran through the lobby. One of our people went out after her, got to her just before she jumped into a taxi. 'Can I do anything for you?' our guy said, and this girl—blond and blue, five-seven, maybe 110—the girl looked at him and said nobody could do anything for her, that her—this is a quote, son—that her world had just ended and—Sean? Sean, you want us to come with you?"
"Let him go alone," Keir said softly, putting a hand on Dan's arm. He waited until Sean raced from the room. Then he flashed a tight smile at his brother and his stepfather. "But I'll be damned if I can see any harm in us following him."
Vegas was where he'd grown up.
It was easy to get to the Shalimar, easy to go straight through the lobby to the elevators as if he were just another guest. It was even easier to find the door to suite 937, knock and say "Room Service" in a way that sounded authentic.
What wasn't easy was to keep from pounding his fist into Beaumont's face when the man opened the door.
"I didn't order room ser—" he said, but the words turned into a terrified squeal as Sean kicked the door shut, grabbed him by the throat and shoved him back inside.
"Where is she?"
Beaumont clawed at his throat. "You're choking me!"
Sean slammed him against the wall. ' 'Where is she, you slimy son of a bitch? Tell me or so help me, I'll—"
"Sean?"
He swung around. Savannah stood in the doorway to a bedroom. Her eyes were red, her nose was running, and he knew she had never been more beautiful to him than she was at this moment. He could see a girl on the bed behind her, sleeping peacefully.
"Sean?" Savannah said again, and he flung Beaumont to the floor like the vermin he was and went to her.